


To Dust

by astraielle, ghoulaesthetics (astraielle)



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: (its just alec dw), F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 02:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraielle/pseuds/astraielle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraielle/pseuds/ghoulaesthetics
Summary: “Do you think your father would have approved of this?”





	To Dust

**Author's Note:**

> prompt, "things you said at the kitchen table."

“Do you think your father would have approved of this?” 

Cat comes dangerously close to swallowing her gum but stops it at the last second. She wasn’t even remotely close to running out of cigarettes yet, but Gil had given her shit for putting too much stress on the air filtration system in her quarters and she’d had to find something to distract her from cravings. 

“And by ‘this’ you mean…” She glances up and around the room from where they’re sitting on her couch, coffee table acting as a private dinner table away from the rest of the crew. The soup Drack made had barely even had a chance to cool off. “Us? Or the way I’m out-performing him in a role he designed for himself?” 

The ridge of Jaal’s brow went up as he gave her a slight look. “I believe you know which I’m referring to.” 

“I do, and I’m trying to dodge the question. Failing, evidently.” 

“Evidently.”

Jaal’s voice is teasing, but she already knew he wasn’t going to let it go until she decided to answer. Cat loves the man, she does–even if it’s something she’s only been able to admit to herself in private lately. But the way she can’t seem to escape his thoughtful gaze is a new sensation that she’s still getting used to. 

“I don’t know,” she finally says, sounding somewhat more bitter than intended. “He never really gave me much of an indication of how he felt about what I did. I can only assume that no reaction meant a bad opinion. Does it even matter? He’s not getting any deader, Jaal.” 

Jaal is silent for a moment. Thoughtful. “But if you had to guess,” he insists. 

Cat sighs, deeply. Truthfully, she knew that the distance she felt between her blood relatives was a difficult thing for him to grasp. He would never question her feelings about Alec, and probably knew the answer she had for him wouldn’t be satisfactory, but she could see the lingering questions in his eyes when she shrugged off the death of a parent, more annoyed at the inconveniences it brought. 

She still didn’t worry about her image or how the public perceived her. Those who offered their condolences were well-meaning, and didn’t know Alec well enough to realize they were wasting their breath on the platitudes. 

“I don’t know,” she repeats. “You’re good at what you do. Competent on a ship and on a ground team. He’d probably have liked you just as much as anyone who didn’t pull the operation down. Getting with me would probably change that for the worse.” 

Jaal frowns. He’s been holding his bowl in his hands, waiting for it to be optimally cooled off, but now he changes his mind. It hits the table with a soft clink. 

“How so? As far as I can tell, I can apply that entire list to you, and perhaps add an extra point while I’m at it.” 

“Because Alec couldn’t pull his head out of his ass far enough to give a shit about anything that wasn’t immediately useful to him somehow. Ergo, the number of shits he gave about whatever I was doing, or how well I was doing it? Non-existent. You wouldn’t win any points for sleeping with the Pathfinder’s daughter, is what I mean,” she chuckles. “And I know what you’re gonna bounce back with before you say it, because people have said it before, and okay, it makes sense for most parents probably–but I’m pretty sure the only reason didn’t choke to death when we landed is because he didn’t want to live with another reminder of his own failures.” 

She’s not looking at Jaal, refuses to. The edge has faded somewhat from her voice, hurt tugging at the frayed ends of the syllables. 

Jaal knows her. Knows her anger, and understands it as best he can. Cat knows that her personal connections, or lack thereof, are startling and saddening to the average Angara, and has no doubt that he’s probably doing enough hurting for both of them. 

He catches one of her hands and folds his own around it, running hot and reminding her of where she is. 

“If you really want an answer, you should probably check in with Harper. Her attitude seems like proof enough that he could feel something resembling emotional attachment.” 

She squeezes his hand. Suddenly, she’s not so hungry anymore. Leftovers for breakfast sound more appetizing, anyway. 

She could really use a cigarette, though. 

Jaal squeezes back. “Wouldn’t you know it, it suddenly occurred to me that he--what was it? Isn’t getting any deader. Your brother, however--his opinions are slightly more important to speculate on, I believe. 

She manages a tiny smile. 

“That, I could probably offer some real insight on.” 


End file.
